


Epilogue for the Devil

by vanillafluffy



Category: Justified
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This was not about money, it was about loyalty." The next couple minutes after the end of episode 3.04, "The Devil You Know".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epilogue for the Devil

The barroom smells of cordite from the gunshots, with an undertone of blood. Johnny watches Boyd, who is sitting back on his heels watching Devil, whose starring eyes aren't watching anything at all.

After a moment, Johnny secures his revolver in the pouch next to his right hip. He maneuvers the wheelchair up to the body and releases the catch on the left armrest, allowing it to swing outward. This way, he can lean over and rummage through Devil's pockets for the wad of cash that the dead man hadn't appreciated as he should.

Okay, so it isn't a fortune, but money is money. He starts to count off bills, pauses. Glances over at Boyd.

"You want me to divvy up a cut for Arlo?"

Boyd shakes his head, but his eyes don't move. "No, you keep it all. This was not about money, it was about loyalty, and I would have preferred that things not come to this juncture."

Johnny hopes his cousin isn't going to beat himself up over Devil's death. He'd needed killing, plain and simple. When you picked a side, you had to stay with it—even a fool who thought he could set Crowder against Crowder should have known that. Too bad he hadn't understood that was a prerogative reserved for other Crowders.

"It would feel too much like taking thirty pieces of silver," Boyd continues in his thoughtful way.

It takes a moment to recall the reference; that was how much Judas had taken to sell out Jesus to the Romans. Boyd always was a better Sunday school scholar than he'd been.

"So now what?" Johnny asks. He replaces the wheelchair's armrest and pats it "Hope you're not expecting me to dig the hole."

"No, I'll take care of Devil's…final resting place. I'd be obliged if you'd clean up the mess here while I'm doing that."

He grunts. Scrubbing up blood and brain matter won't be pleasant, but at least he's been well-compensated. "I can do that."

It isn't like it's the first blood that's ever been spilled on this floor.

 

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RIP, Devil.


End file.
